we must pity SchoolTomorrow. he doesn't mean to be so mean.
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
[i can already hear the Voices in the Air murmuring 'the little girl doesn't know the difference, between journal entries and guide entries, poor child.']
Vhatever de case, I am still vriting a Guide Entry.
(excuse the 'v's. they arrive on vhims and depart in the same fashion. )
I really shouldn't be online. I am sinning, I am sinning as I speak. I should be writing out an answer to 'how is a bay between headlands formed?'
I should be thinking about SchoolTomorrow, a Terrible Time in which Terrible Things are prophesied to happen.
SchoolTomorrow is ballooning itself up, becoming a entity that reeks of itself. (terrible, terribly pungent. can you smell it as i speak?)
Yes, who doesn't fear SchoolTomorrow?
Even SchoolToday is less fearsome. And even less so SchoolYesterday.
Ai-yi.
And they think little kids are scared of things that go bump in the night or big scary monsters that go grr in nightmares?
All the while, they're blowing up SchoolTomorrow and being dismally cheerful about him.
I suppose SchoolTomorrow doesn't really mean much harm. It isn't his fault that we dread him so. (if you don't dread him, or if you're in no position to dread him, don't, don't utter a sound. i'm trying to sound convincing. shhhh. )
Blame it on the people that think we don't like things that go bump in the night, as mentioned above.
Who are they?
If you know, don't say. (suffer in silence. believe me, it doesn't pay to complain. )
If you don't know...
you must be them.
[the Voices in the Air are currently singing abba songs. they're strange beings, but they like hanging around me. i'm honoured. ]
No, I'm not Joan of Arc.
In case you ever wondered. (that's all).
Vhatever de case, I am still vriting a Guide Entry.
(excuse the 'v's. they arrive on vhims and depart in the same fashion. )
I really shouldn't be online. I am sinning, I am sinning as I speak. I should be writing out an answer to 'how is a bay between headlands formed?'
I should be thinking about SchoolTomorrow, a Terrible Time in which Terrible Things are prophesied to happen.
SchoolTomorrow is ballooning itself up, becoming a entity that reeks of itself. (terrible, terribly pungent. can you smell it as i speak?)
Yes, who doesn't fear SchoolTomorrow?
Even SchoolToday is less fearsome. And even less so SchoolYesterday.
Ai-yi.
And they think little kids are scared of things that go bump in the night or big scary monsters that go grr in nightmares?
All the while, they're blowing up SchoolTomorrow and being dismally cheerful about him.
I suppose SchoolTomorrow doesn't really mean much harm. It isn't his fault that we dread him so. (if you don't dread him, or if you're in no position to dread him, don't, don't utter a sound. i'm trying to sound convincing. shhhh. )
Blame it on the people that think we don't like things that go bump in the night, as mentioned above.
Who are they?
If you know, don't say. (suffer in silence. believe me, it doesn't pay to complain. )
If you don't know...
you must be them.
[the Voices in the Air are currently singing abba songs. they're strange beings, but they like hanging around me. i'm honoured. ]
No, I'm not Joan of Arc.
In case you ever wondered. (that's all).
